Coup D'IaHB: The Measure of Hero
by Darkchilde
Summary: A trilogy about what might have happened if the episode "Hero". Currently "Hero" and "Aftermath" are up
1. Hero

Disclaimer: Not mine, all Disney's. This is the first part of the "Hero" trilogy--the next one is Aftermath, and then Written in the Stars. I don't think I'll have either of those two out for awhile--I want to really work with them, make them as good as possible. This is an alternate timeline, starting at the very beginning of the In A Heartbeat episode "Hero" and going from there. Anyway, without further ado...

Hero

The fire licked at him from all around, the heat almost tangible. Smoke choked him, thick and black, rolling around him like a cloud of evil. The air was almost all gone, the flames greedily devouring any and all oxygen that remained in the smoke choked room. 

Jamie Waite pressed his hand over his mouth, trying to filter the black air out, and only breath the clean air. His attempts were in vain however, as the smoke burned into his lungs, making it feel like he was being burned from the inside out. 

His eyes stung and watered, tears rolling down his cheeks as he fought to see in the thick air all around him. God, where was the boy? The boy...the boy...he had to find the boy! If he didn't, then...

"CHASE!" Jamie yelled into the burning blackness, his ears straining for any sound other then the pop and fizzle of burning wood and plaster. "CHASE!" 

A soft sound, barely audible, caught his attention, and Jamie turned his eyes to the sound, praying that it was the boy. 

It was--a small, brown haired boy stood in the doorway, a teddy bear clutched in his arms, as he stared at the fire that raged all around him. Jamie took a choking breath, and surged forward, reaching out for the child, his fingers brushing the boy's arm lightly. He caught the child and pulled him toward him, swinging the little boy onto his waist with the ease of long practice. 

Pressing the baby's face against his shoulder, Jamie whirled around, intent on going out the way he came in. 

However, whoever controlled fate and this fire had decided that that would have been FAR to easy. The door Jamie had so hastily raced through only moments before was now completely blocked by a burning beam that must have fallen from the ceiling. 

Trying to take a deep breath proved disastrous for Jamie, a coughing fit overcoming him. Still clutching the boy to his body, the young man began to search for a new way out, his dark eyes scanning the room for anything--another door, a window...a window!

There, not fifteen feet away, was a window! Drawing in a deep breath, Jamie began to make his way over to it, every second seeming to crawl and stretch into minutes, hours, days. The burning and the smoke and the fear and the pain were beginning to take their toil on Jamie's young body, but he pushed onward, intent on saving the young one in his arms. 

Fifteen steps to the window, he guessed.

Chase couldn't be any older then Sami. In fact, Chase looked about the same age as Sami, if just a little older. He was bigger then Jamie's petite baby sister. 

Thinking of his beloved sister brought her image to his mind--huge, doe brown eyes framed by long eyelashes, a mouth that forever turned upward into a smile, and long, fire engine red hair, the same shade as their mother's. Her smooth baby soft skin was flawless in his mind, and her wide dark hazel...

Somewhere in between thinking of his sister he had switched to someone he cared almost as much about. Now, replacing his sister's image, was Caitie Roth, her lips stained with dark purple lipstick and her eyes dancing with laughter. 

Ten steps to the window. 

Caitie's image blurred and bleed into an image of his mother, a slow smile on her face as she scanned his latest report card, noting the A in French and C's and B's in the other courses. 

He could hear her laugh when he made the comment on how being around the super squad was rubbing off on him...

Nine steps to the window. 

Her laughter turned into something louder, deeper, and his mother metamorphosed into Hank and Tyler, throwing around a miniature football in-between calls with him, cracking jokes about him trying out for the football team next year. 

Eight steps to the window.

The jokes blurred into advice, given by a smiling, sweet blonde with sky blue eyes. Val sat beside him, trying to explain one of Caitie's almost constant mood swings, assuring him that it wasn't his fault, and that Caitie really didn't hate him. 

Seven steps to the window.

Val's blue eyes changed to dark brown ones, surrounded by long dark lashes, over a gaped tooth smile. Molly beamed at her older brother, a baby doll cradled lovingly in her arms as he strummed his guitar to give her baby music to sleep by.

Six steps to the window.

Molly's joy at his playing was replaced by Jazz twirling to the music, her long black hair spinning out around her as she danced like the entire world was watching her, even though it was just her and her older brother, her Mona Lisa smile pulling at her lips. 

Five steps to the window. 

Jazz's Mona Lisa smile morphed into a familiar smirk, as Crimson stood with her arms crossed across her chest, her dark eyes twinkling just like his did when he was getting into some kind of trouble. She held a notebook to her body as she smirked at him, the papers in it "vitally important". 

Four steps to the window. 

Crimson's eyes became Brooke's as she stormed after him demanding that he get his paperwork to her RIGHT THAT MINUTE, or she was going to make him do more paper work, even though he could hear the smile in her voice. 

Three steps to the window.

Brooke's voice deepened to Alex Freedmen's, as the good doctor reprimanded his "black sheep" for about the three hundredth time for doing something he knew he wasn't suppose to do, but Jamie could hear what might have been a hint of pride in the older man's voice. 

Two steps to the window. 

Alex suddenly was his father, Sam Waite's emerald green eyes sparkling at his only son with love and pride, as he explained the intricate inner workings of the combustion engine to his all to eager boy. 

One step to the window. 

Sam bleed into Caitie once more, her eyes brimming with tears, as they sat in the hospital together, waiting for any word on their friend, Brianne. He remembered every detail--every scent, every touch, every sound, everything. He remembered the way he felt. He remembered how her skin felt under his finger tips, if only touched for the barest hint of a second. 

It was not Caitie's milky skin under his fingertips now, but heated glass, and Jamie sent a prayer of thanks to whoever happened to be looking over him and the small boy at that moment. 

Switching the little boy to his left side, Jamie reared back with his right, and shoved it through the glass pane. The boy, and himself, would probably suffer some cuts from the shattered glass--he could feel the blood seeping out of the wounds he had just given himself, but right at that moment, he couldn't care less. 

Bashing away the excess glass, Jamie shoved the little boy through first, careful to avoid cutting open any major arteries or anything of that nature. He felt, rather then saw Chase hit the ground and sprint toward his screaming mother. 

Jamie beamed, and then turned his attention to his second goal--saving himself. Taking a deep breath, Jamie leaned forward, preparing to jump through the window. 

He could feel the welcoming cool air on his face, could almost taste the chill of the night. Boy was he going to get it when he got out of here--from the squad, Alex, his mother, and probably Caitie too. 

Jamie started thinking these thoughts too soon. 

The upper floor, engulfed in fire and rapidly loosing it's support beams, finally gave way to gravity--and fell. 

With Jamie under it. 

As the blackness and fire and pain consumed him and the last of his life left him, Jamie screamed for the last person who had been on his mind and always been in his heart.

"CAITIE!"

A world away and across town, Caitie Roth woke up screaming Jamie's name. 


	2. Aftermath

Disclaimer: Well, their not mine. I don't own them. This is the second story in the "Measure of a Hero" trilogy, and it follows "Hero" directly. The last one, "Written In the Stars", will deal with Caitie's reaction to the events of "Hero".

Viva La Revolution! 

Aftermath

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." Val Linar chanted, staring at the burning building with wide, fear filled blue eyes. 

"Come on Jamie..." Hank Beechum whispered, kneeling beside the blonde Val as they waited for their friend to stumble from the burning building, clutching the little boy and smirking his all to familiar smirk. 

"Oh God, oh God..." 

"MOMMY!!" The two's attention was grabbed away from the towering inferno that was once Westminster Apartments at the sounding of the little voice. Turning there heads to look, the EMT duo was greeted by the sight of a little boy, maybe four, running from the fire toward a dark haired woman was clutching as Tyler Connell's shoulder in an attempt to get to him. 

"CHASE!" The woman screamed, getting away from Tyler and racing toward her son. The child was swept up into an exuberant hug by his mother, squeezing him so tightly the teenage EMT's half expected to see his eyeballs pop out of his head. 

Val felt a small smile of relief pull at her lips--if the little boy was okay, then Jamie had to be okay. He'd come loping up any minute now, smirking that familiar smirk...any minute now...

The stark cry cut through the chilly night air, breaking the hearts of three of the young people who heard it--because they new what it was. A cry to someone he would never see again, a cry of love, a cry of need, longing, passion, pain, fear, duty and pride--a death cry. 

Years afterward, Val Linar would still wake up at night, Jamie Waite's deep voice ringing in her ears, calling out her best friend's name. 

Years afterward, Tyler Connell would still be able to recall the exact instant he knew that his friend was dead. 

Years afterward, Hank Beechum would still blame himself for the death of the stubborn, dark eyed boy that had become one of his best friends. 

The building burned on, consuming the body of their friend, and all the trio could do was watch--and cry. 

The still stars hung in the heavens, shining down on the world below. The moon still rose above them, illuminating the darkness in it's strange blue light. The world still turned, life went on. 

But for three young people, it was subtly different, and they knew, knew at that instant that things would never be the same for any of them again.

@-}--}---

Val sat alone in the front seat of the ambulance, her face buried in her hands, her entire body shaking. How could this have happened? They were suppose to SAVE lives, not lose their own! 

The fire had been extinguished, and all those hurt by the flames and smoke had been taken to the hospital. The squad had managed to get a hold of themselves for the people that needed them, though Val's eyes still rained tears and Hank hadn't looked anyone in the eye since...it happened. 

It. That's all it was now. It. A measly little two letter word to describe one of the most terrifying and shattering experiences of her life. Her friend had DIED--Jamie was DEAD. 

Her mind shied away from the implications of that statement, just continuing on, re-running the events after Jamie...

Once the last person had been taken to the hospital, Hank, who had been driving, had surprised his teammates by heading back toward the site of the fire, instead of the station. Val and Tyler, both to shaken by tonight's turn of events, had said nothing, just letting their serious leader lead them where he would. 

Looking back, Val could recognize now the utter and complete desolation on her old friend's face as they pulled up to the site, the last fire truck just getting ready to depart. 

Hank had climbed out of the ambulance and walked toward the ruins of the building, his shoulders straight and his head held high. Val was not ashamed to admit that she hadn't even been able to look at the burned out building, instead just burying her face in Tyler's shoulder and letting him hold her. 

Hank had stood in front of the building for a long time, just watching the last of the flickering embers die out. When the building was nothing but a black and dark mess, the handsome young man had walked back toward his mourning counterparts, his eyes very wide in his face. 

He climbed into the driver's side seat, beckoning to the other two as he did. "Let's go." he rasped, starting the engine, and waiting for Linar and Connell to climb in as well. 

As soon as they had arrived back at the station, Hank had leapt out of the ambulance and headed straight toward Alex's office. Tyler, after checking to make sure that Val would be alright, had headed after his best friend, worried about his strange behavior. 

And now here Val sat, alone with her thoughts--and her tears. 

@-}--}---

Tyler found Hank standing in the middle of Alex's office, a manila folder in his hands. The phone was off the hook and resting right near the other boy's free hand, as he scanned the contents of the folder like a man obsessed. 

"Hank?" Tyler whispered, trying to catch his friend's attention. "Hank, what are you..." 

Tyler's bright blue eyes landed on the name on the flap of the folder, and his heart flipped over. James Waite. 

"Hank, why are you looking at Jamie's personal file?" Tyler asked, fighting back the flood of pain speaking his friend's name brought. 

"I'm looking for his home phone number." Hank told him dully. Connell blinked, and then blinked again, staring at the young man in shock.

"What?"

"I'm looking for his home address." He repeated, never taking his eyes off the information in front of him. 

"Why?" Tyler demanded, staring at his best friend in amazement. 

"We have to tell them." 

"Tell who what...you mean Jamie's...family?" Tyler asked quietly, his mind finally catching up with his mouth. 

"Yeah--I mean Jamie's family."

Tyler swallowed hard, and reached out to put a hand on Hank's shoulder. "Hank...maybe we should let the police handle--" 

Hank cut him off by jumping to his feet, shaking the young man's hand off. "No, Tyler! He was _our_ squad mate, _our_ friend--they deserve to hear it from _us_. They deserve to hear that he died a _saving_ someone_,_ not just a casualty in a fire. They deserve to hear the _truth_. That Jamie Waite was the biggest damn _hero_ that I've ever met, and his death wasn't in vain. They deserve to hear it from us, and I'm damn sure going to make sure that they do." 

With that, Hank turned on his heel and strode off, leaving Tyler Connell alone with his thoughts--and tears for a boy that would never know about the lives he had affected with his last act. 


End file.
